The Truth About Arda
by Writer From Rivendell
Summary: COMPLETE. Girl falls into Middle Earth, however, she doesn't speak the language, she's not found by Legolas, and she doesn't fall in love with anyone. Not a Mary Sue - I think. Please read and review.
1. Enter Anna, Tolkien Geek Extrodinare

The Truth About Arda  
  
Disclaimer - I am not Tolkien, nor will I ever be as great as he. I am merely playing with his characters in hopes of getting a few points across about Arda, a.k.a. Middle Earth.   
  
A/N - This is a serious fic. Please feel free to criticize my mistakes in canon, writing, spelling, grammar, usage, or life. :o) Also, this is a Girl-Falls-Into-Middle-Earth fic, so feel free to grumble about how cliched the plot is, about how the OC is a Mary Sue, etc.   
  
Flames are welcome, seeing as I'm going on a camping trip and they can be used to toast marshmallows. ^-^  
  
She landed with a thump, a bump, and a roll. The thump was from the initial landing. The bump was from standing suddenly and hitting her head on a branch, and the roll was from tripping over a stone and going flying down the small incline that she was on now.   
  
"Drat!" She cursed, picking herself off the ground and rubbing at her head. "Where am I?"  
  
The tall trees surrounding her did not answer, instead, a voice began to chatter angrily as a tall greyed eyed being leading a white horse appeared.  
  
He (she assumed the figure before her was male, even if his hair was longer than hers) said something to her again in a language that she did not understand. The lilting tone in his voice made her assume it was a question.   
  
She shook her head, hoping that he would understand what she meant by such a gesture.   
  
An anxious look crossed his face as he asked his question again, this time in a different language. Again she shook her head, unable to comprehend what he was inquiring of her.   
  
"I don't understand. I'm sorry - English is the only language I speak." She said slowly, enunciating every word.   
  
He frowned, and said something new.   
  
This time, she was able to catch one of the words he spoke. "Westron?" She asked.   
  
He answered her in the same strange tongue, nodding all while he spoke.   
  
A terrifying thought crossed her mind. "Arda?" She inquired, fiercely hoping that he would say no.   
  
The figure nodded again, looking happier this time. "Arda," he confirmed.   
  
She sighed, defeated, and squeezed her eyes shut tight to hold back the tears. All of her hope of still being on Earth was gone. "I'm in Arda," she thought, suddenly afraid, though she had not been the entire time that the being was speaking to her. "I'm in Arda, I can't make myself understood, and I don't know how to get back."  
  
"Elda?" She asked the figure before her. Elf?   
  
He nodded. "Elda. Glorfindel." He replied, pointing to himself.   
  
"Glorfindel!" She exclaimed, as realization struck her. "Imladris?"  
  
He - the elf - nodded.   
  
She sucked in her breath. "Anna," she said, hands on her chest. She gestured at him, then at the horse and the surrounding trees. "Glorfindel. Asfaloth. Imladris."  
  
A look of recognition slowly entered his features. "An-na. Imladris," he said, adding another few words, in elvish, she thought, and motioning for her to follow him on foot.   
  
He led her to a rocky overhand, and pointed to the land below. "Imladris," he informed her happily. "Elrond Peredhel."  
  
She took a deep breath, and tried to remain calm. "Anna," she said, and gestured down at the valley bellow. "Elrond Peredhel. Take me to him."  
  
If Glorfindel was confused, he did not let it show - rather, he began to lead her down the path to Rivendell.   
  
Relieved that she had been understood, and hoping that she would not be imprisoned on the basis that she was a stranger, Anna followed him.   
  
A/N - Please review, flame, criticize, etc., and tell me what you think of this thus far. 


	2. Elrond Peredhil

Disclaimer - I am not Tolkien, nor do I wish to be, because if I was Tolkien, I would be "pushing up daisies", if you know what I mean.   
  
A/N - Again, this is a serious fic. Constructive criticism is wanted, and greatly appreciated. Also, all names that you do not recognize were constructed using the back of the Silmarillion, and belong to original characters. My apologies for butchering Sindarin.   
  
My apologies for taking so long to update. I've had Writer's Block, and school's back in. ~_~  
  
Glorfindel must have understood her meaning even if he did not understand her words, for within an hour she was taken before Elrond Peredhel, and tried to converse with him, but to little avail. He, not knowing what language it was she spoke, was able only to communicate with her through signing, which she did not readily understand.   
  
"Elrond," he told her, pointing to himself. This was followed by something unintelligible, then, "Sirion."  
  
Glorfindel also did the same. "Gondolin."  
  
It took her a moment to comprehend, but when she did, how long it had took her seemed almost idiotic. "They're asking where I'm from," she thought to herself. "or at least I think they are. Glorfindel was from Gondolin, and Elrond was from the Havens at Sirion, I think. So they want to know what place I've sprung from. What should I tell them?"  
  
A few moments passed, with Anna lost deep in thought. Finally, she answered with something she hoped was suitable. "My name is Anna," she replied, placing her hand on her chest, as she had done earlier. "I come from Earth."  
  
Elrond and Glorfindel looked at one another and began to converse rapidly in what she thought was elvish, leaving her standing and feeling stupid.   
  
"E-arth?" asked Elrond, after a long bout of conversation.   
  
She nodded, relieved that they had understood at least that much of her speech. "Earth."  
  
"Arda?" implored the lore-master.   
  
She shook her head.   
  
A fleeting look of anxiety crossed his face as he considered her answer. Finally, having nothing to say, he beckoned for her to follow him, down the corridor and into an empty room. Empty, that is, except for a bed and a wardrobe, or what she thought was a wardrobe.   
  
He motioned for her to sit down; then turned and swiftly strode out of the room.   
  
Assuming that he wanted her to stay where she was, Anna did not leave; rather, she waited patiently for him to return. While she waited she thought of how she had come to Arda, and wondered what could have possibly brought her there.   
  
"I was in the woods, trying to help Dad pitch the tent so that he'd be done faster and we could go out on the lake; then I was here. What happened? Did I fall? Did Dad send me here?"  
  
She tried to imagine her father casting some spell to send her into Tolkien's Arda and failed. The thought of a somewhat short, stocky balding man wearing dungarees and a plaid shirt casting a magic spell to send his daughter away was beyond her, and soon had her dissolving in fits of giggles.   
  
A sound not unlike someone clearing their throat calmed her down, and reminded her of where she was.   
  
"Sorry - I tend to laugh a lot, at stupid things. I think it comes from living around my brother too long," she said, then quickly shut her mouth, as she realized that whoever had made the clearing-throat noise could not understand her.   
  
Curious as to who it could have been, she turned to face the door, only to see Elrond Peredhel accompanied by an unfamiliar lady, both of whom were giving her a very odd look.   
  
She chose to ignore their confused stares and instead concentrated on introducing herself to the maiden before her.   
  
Using the method that had worked before, she put her hand on her chest and stated her name. "Anna."  
  
The lady regarded her suspiciously, then turned to Elrond and began to chatter away in Sindarin or Westron; which on Anna could not be sure, as she did not speak either of them.   
  
Elrond said something back to her, then nodded at Anna, and back at the maid.   
  
Satisfied with whatever Elrond had told her, the lady turned to face her. "Sîrwen," she said, pointing to herself.   
  
Anna smiled weakly. "Lovely," she thought. "I've been assigned a babysitter. Maybe she'll teach me the language . . ."  
  
This thought was forgotten as Sîrwen soon took her by the hand and led her to another room, where she was forced to wash her face and hands. She regarded this without much surprise, as she was absolutely covered in dirt from head to toe. The day's earlier wanderings in the woods had left her filthy.   
  
  
  
It was not a week later, with Anna knowing a few words in both elvish and Westron, having been exposed to them almost constantly during the past few days, that the hobbits arrived. It did not surprise her. Glorfindel had ridden out almost two weeks earlier, and Gandalf had arrived shortly thereafter. Being the Tolkien geek that she was, she had known what to expect.   
  
"The Periannath," she whispered to herself, tucking the elvish word away in her mind. "The hobbits. Frodo is coming. The Council of Elrond will be held soon."  
  
Sîrwen, who was walking close behind her, keeping an eye on her charge as she wandered the paths laid out in the gardens, gave her a curious look, then reprimanded her for speaking in English.   
  
"Westron," the elf-maiden told her, in a firm voice. "Westron."  
  
Anna managed to look abashed, and muttered a quick apology before turning her thoughts back to the matter at hand. The Council of Elrond would be held soon, and she, for one, had no interest in going. What was the use, if she did not understand what they said? What help could she possibly be? She had read the books, and knew the outcome, but she did not dare change the story; did not dare tell the characters within what would happen to them.   
  
Little did she know what would soon become of her, and how she soon would have a part to play in the events at hand.   
  
Sîrwen - River Maiden. It was all I could come up with on short notice.  
  
A/N - Yes, it's a cliff-hanger, and yes, I know it's going to be a few days before I update. Please don't tell me how rude I'm being; I know it well. ~-~   
  
Please tell me of any mistakes that you saw in canon, any spelling or usage mistakes, etc. Also, please feel free to tell me what you *didn't* like. Thank you.   
  
Reviewer notes: (If any of the previous reviewers are still checking for updates on this)  
  
Saber Apricot - I'm trying to *not* make this a Mary Sue, but thank you for reviewing anyway. Feel free to e-mail me if you would like any help with your fan fic. :o)  
  
Yuhi - Sorry to disappoint you; it's another short chapter. Feel free to throw stuff at me until I write longer ones!  
  
Stryph8's piss-toll - Thanks for your kind review . . . then again, you're my friend, so you're forced to like my work anyway. Hmm.   
  
Huinesoron - Yes, I know. Shocking, isn't it? Thanks for reviewing - and for putting me on your favorites list. I feel loved. ;-) 


	3. The Council of Elrond, and Tolkien's Nov...

Disclaimer: Do I look like Tolkien? I hope not, seeing as I'm relatively young and a girl. Looking like Tolkien is not on my list of priorities. Neither, it seems, is owning The Lord of the Rings. All character names and places therein (with the exception of Anna and her "babysitter") are property of the Tolkien Estate. I'm only butchering them horribly in hopes of getting a few points across.   
  
A/N - Please tell me if I have screwed up the time line of events.   
  
It was not a week later she heard the bell that signified the beginning of the Council of Elrond ring. Having become used to the happenings in Imladris, she did not think anything of it until Sîrwen, who was sitting in the chair beside her, dropped book she had been reading aloud and grabbed Anna by the arm.   
  
Having been taught the question, "Where are we going?" in the past three weeks, Anna soon used it to ask Sîrwen where she was being dragged to.   
  
The elf maiden paused in dragging her charge for a brief moment, and rapidly told her in Westron what was happening. Anna, able to make out part of what Sîrwen said, understood that a council was being held, and by the request of Elrond, she was to attend.   
  
Confused, Anna let Sîrwen drag her to the area where the council was taking place and seat her in a chair beside Elrond Peredhel, who had, it seemed, just finished introducing Frodo to those present, for the elves, dwarves, and men seated around the table were looking at Frodo expectantly, as if waiting for him to tell why he was there.   
  
Amused that she had been allowed to attend, Anna studied those present with great interest. There was Gimli, seated next to Gloin, his father, and Legolas, looking resplendent in golden hair, and a few elves she did not recognize, who she assumed were from the Grey Havens, as it had been stated in the books that some of Cirdan's folk were present. Idly, she wondered where Galdor was seated.   
  
Just as she began to grow bored, and wondered what Elrond could possibly want her for, he took her by the wrist and stood next to her, introducing her first in Westron (which she understood seemingly well) then, for the benefit of those of his household present, in Sindarin (which she could barely make out, as Sîrwen had concentrated on teaching her more of the common tongue).   
  
"Here, my friends, is Anna, of the race of Men. Her arrival has been only one of the strange happenings I spoke of, for she came to my house clothed in no garb I nor any of my servants recognized, and did not speak any language that we here knew. She claims that she does not come from Arda. Of that I do not know what to think" Said Elrond gravely.   
  
Anna fidgeted. She had not understood all of what Elrond had said, only that he had told the members of the council that she was human, and that her name was Anna. The rest was a mystery to her.   
  
The Council continued on, with Anna soon realizing that what Treebeard had told Merry and Pippin about listening to council you do not understand true. Occasionally she heard pieces that she understood, and was able to follow from memory, but most of the time she was utterly lost. It was not until Bilbo stood up and began to speak about his finding of the Ring that she even began to realize where the talk had progressed to, what was happening.   
  
To her everlasting delight, she found that she could understand most of Bilbo's telling of finding the Ring. The Hobbit used plain words that she knew from her lessons with Sîrwen, and did not speak in any different tongues. Indeed, when he repeated the riddles that had been exchanged between himself and Gollum, she found herself able to understand almost every word. The feeling of comprehension managed to last until the end of the council, when Frodo announced that he would take the Ring, and Sam jumped out of hiding, indignant, demanding that Frodo not go anywhere without him.   
  
Shortly thereafter, the council disbanded, leaving Anna feeling very pleased with herself.   
  
Almost two months had passed when the Fellowship left Rivendell, and began their quest to destroy the Ring of Power. Anna was there to see them off, along with the rest of Elrond's household, and could not help but be slightly relieved as they left. As much as she loved being able to see the Fellowship (if not talk to them, when the chance came) she was glad to see the Ring leaving Imladris. The thought of being in the presence of what had been the focus of the Tolkien's works was too much, even for her, a stereotypical fantasy geek. Which reminded her. Fantasy - the books. She knew Frodo's fate; what would become of Elrond, of Aragorn and Arwen. The thoughts that had haunted her ever since the making of the Fellowship returned with a vengeance.   
  
"Should I tell him?" She pondered. "Should I tell Elrond about the books, about what I know? Should I tell him how it all ends?" Somehow it didn't seem right to keep from telling him, yet it didn't seem right to inform him either.   
  
She debated what to do all through the evening meal, and well into the night, not noticing that she was able to follow the conversation just as well as if those engaged in it were speaking English.   
  
  
  
Early the next morning, she had made up her mind. She would tell Elrond about the books - first The Silmarillion, and then, depending on his reaction, perhaps about The Lord of the Rings.   
  
"I only hope that he doesn't ask me what happens in the end," she thought, worriedly. "I don't think I should tell him - it doesn't seem right."  
  
This and other thoughts of its type played through her mind as she, no longer accompanied by Sîrwen, sought Elrond to tell him all she knew of Tolkien and his writings.   
  
A/N - It's short, I know - but don't worry. The next chapter should be longer. If not . . . well, I make no promises.   
  
Notes to Reviewers:  
  
For everyone that asked a question, I have a reply!   
  
Firstly, Mary Sues. I know that a few people asked what a Mary Sue is. To be brief, a Mary Sue is an original character who enters Arda, is from an unknown kingdom, etc, and is, in a sense, perfect. Usually she's an elf who is better with a sword than Aragorn, better with a bow than Legolas, can use magic, and is wiser than Elrond or Gandalf. Generally, she falls in love with a canon character, usually Legolas, joins the Fellowship, and saves Arda single-handedly. On the flip side, Mary Sue can be an ordinary girl who is dropped into Arda and wreaks havoc with canon before being sent home again.   
  
There. I hope that cleared up any confusion anyone might have had.   
  
Renata - Yes, Anna will do *something*. I have plans for her. :o)  
  
carlas-gone-crazy - Yes, Anna *will* be able to speak Westron - not well, but she'll be able to speak it. See the above for the definition of a Mary Sue. I hope it helps!  
  
galadh - I carried on! Are you happy? :o)  
  
Huinesoron - Wow! I'm a good writer? I feel so warm and fuzzy inside . . . *Laughs* Anyway - Sîrwen. I did not mean to make her seem less elf-like with the language thing - I suppose I was remembering a teacher I once had that made us speak only in Spanish when we were trying to learn it. She used to yell at us for speaking English - so, that's probably where it came from. Transcript - nice idea, but I'm too lazy to use it. ;oD Namarië is fine.   
  
Nightbird*Songbird - Ah! Someone noticed. I purposely left out any description of Anna, so that the reader could form their own opinion of what she looks like, in the way that Tolkien did with Legolas. (Except his was unintentional, I believe.) Thank you! I will keep writing. :)  
  
AlmightyIshboo - If you need anywhere to hide from the crazed Legolas/Orlando Bloom fans, I think that they're avoiding Alakardiel, another story of mine. You're free to hide there, if you like. :oD  
  
Ainu Laire - Tolkien said that The Lord of the Rings was a translation of The Red Book of Westmarch, which was, of course, written in Westron. However, in some of his earlier writings, he did say that Westron was akin to modern English, so I don't know. It depends on what you believe it.   
  
Before I leave you in peace, I would like to know - how old do you believe Anna is? If you would please leave your ideas as to how old, it would be very helpful. :o) Also welcome are any comments on what you believe she looks like, as is constructive criticism. 


	4. I'm dreaming of: messing up the plot?

Disclaimer - I'm not Tolkien, I don't own this, and no, for the last time, I am not an elf, and I am not a Legolas fan girl, thankyouverymuch. ;oD  
  
A/N - Kudos to anyone that knows what Hall it is and whose voice she is hearing. Hint - No, it's not Ilúvatar. ;)   
  
Also, please note that I am sorry that this is another short chapter - I have had Writer's Block from Angband, so getting anything posted is a miracle . . . -_-  
  
She stood in front of the door to the library, where Elrond could be found most days, and sighed. This would be considerably more difficult than she had thought. For one thing, her language skills were less than perfect, and for another, she did not think that Elrond would really believe her even if she did manage to make her meaning clear.   
  
Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and walked inside.   
  
Elrond was sitting at a small table consulting a book of lore. She walked towards him.   
  
"Um . . . Elrond?" She squeaked, cursing at the fact that her voice rose at least an octave when she was nervous.   
  
He looked up. "Yes, Anna?"  
  
"I - I have something to tell you," she managed to say in broken Westron. "It's about - it's about Arda."  
  
Speaking slowly, he asked her. "What is it you have to tell me, Anna?"  
  
Without thinking, she burst out, "In my world, there are books about Arda - about the history of the elves and the War of the Ring, and the Fellowship and . . . stuff. They were written almost fifty years ago by a man named J.R.R. Tolkien, and they tell about what happened with the Jewels and the Ring."  
  
Elrond gave her a puzzled look as she realized that she had just said everything in English.   
  
She took a deep breath, and tried to calm down. Carefully, this time in Westron this time, she tried to explain about the books and Tolkien. "I know how the war ends - and what troubles will befall the Fellowship, but I do not think I am allowed to tell." She finished lamely, unsure if she had used the right words or not.   
  
Elrond nodded. "That was a nice tale, Anna. Alas that it is not true, for how could a mortal from your world learn of Arda?"  
  
Anna did not understand all of his words, only that he thought it was a made-up story. Gravely, she thanked Elrond for listening to her, and left the library, feeling that Elrond's not believing her was a portent, a warning, telling her not to inform the inhabitants of Middle Earth of their fates.   
  
If only she had known that Elrond's disbelief was indeed a sign of what was to come - perhaps then she would have persisted in telling him.   
  
Late that night, as she lay asleep, she had a dream. This in itself was not out of the ordinary. She often dreamt, long dreams that she could not remember entirely upon waking. It was what happened in the dream that made it odd.   
  
She dreamed that she was walking down a long hall, looking for someone. People - elves - were sitting on benches lining the walls, apparently waiting for something to happen. Her dream self did not pay them any heed. Instead, she continued on her way, soon coming to a set of double doors, engraved with pictures and figures that she did not recognize. She considered them for a moment, then pushed them open, and stepped through, into the room beyond.   
  
"Welcome, Anna," said a friendly voice. "How came you to my hall?"  
  
"I - I don't really know, exactly. I - where am I, anyway?" She answered lamely.   
  
"You are in my Hall."   
  
"Yes, but I don't understand - where is your hall?" Asked Anna, frustrated.   
  
"Here."  
  
She sighed, and was about to speak again when the voice interrupted her. "Trouble yourself not with such mortal affairs. There is but one reason that I have called you here, and I will make it clear now. You are upsetting Arda."  
  
"But - I haven't done anything!" Exclaimed Anna, bewildered.   
  
"Yes, you have. By your very presence you have affected the events of the War of the Ring. Even as we speak, the Fellowship is being upset. Boromir has tried to take the Ring too early, and has been slain accordingly by the Orcs. Mithrandir has not fallen; has not become the White. Gollum has yet to find the Fellowship."  
  
"No. It can't be true! Boromir cannot be dead - the Fellowship should not have, by any means, reached that point in the story," Anna calculated. "He would have to have fallen in Moria for this to be true!"  
  
"But he did," said the voice calmly. "He was slain by an orc's arrow even as he tried to confront Frodo and take the Ring. Aragorn saw what happened, and tried to stop him, only to be wounded himself in the fight. The Halfling does not trust him now, as he believes that he tried to take the Ring. As soon as they reach Lorien, he will flee, accompanied by his servant Samwise, and his friends, Meriadoc and Peregrin."  
  
"That can't happen! Pippin and Merry have important stuff to do later on - they have to tell the Ents of what is happening in Isengard; of what Saruman is up to!" She cried, feeling as though her arguments were futile.   
  
"Do they? Has Saruman done wrong to any of them?"  
  
"Yes - he tricked Ragadast the Brown, and he held Gandalf captive in Orthanc - besides, he's going to try and attack Rohan using his Orcs." A thought struck her suddenly. "If he has them - if he created them. Oh dear . . ."  
  
The voice laughed softly, merrily. "If? Such a large word, if, not in letter but in meaning. Do not fear - Saruman has indeed created his Uruk-hai, and he will use them to kidnap the two halflings, and to attack the Rohirrim."  
  
"I thought - you said - wait. You said that Merry and Pippin leave with Sam and Frodo. How can they be kidnapped if they're not in the right place at the right time?" She asked, confused.   
  
"It is dangerous, wandering in the Wild," said the voice dreamily. "You may be caught unawares at any time."  
  
"Oh. I understand." Anna said blandly.   
  
"No, you do not. But it does not matter. Find your books in the woods, and perhaps then you will realize the truth."  
  
It was then she realized who it was, and how she had been speaking English the entire time. She opened her mouth to reply, but did not get a chance, for it was in that moment she awoke, and knew what she had to do.   
  
Find her copy of the trilogy, and read it again.   
  
Reviewer Replies:   
  
Wow! This is my most reviewed story on ff.net . . . which is a good thing, because it's my favorite story that I have posted. :oD Thank you, everyone!   
  
yuhi - Thanks for your review . . . and not having pictured her is perfectly fine, as I have not as of yet. ;)  
  
Huinesoron - Nasty foreign language teachers. Well . . . actually, all of mine have been nice. It was a substitute that made us speak only Spanish . . . so yeah. I'm guessing that it was a clever translation on Tolkien's part - that they don't actually rhyme in Westron, but he made them rhyme in English. Perhaps.   
  
Ainu Laire - He did leave an awful lot of unsolved riddles and whatnot . . . perhaps his son will answer them? Hooray! You hit the nail on the head . . . she's around thirteen. She just had her birthday a few weeks before. :oD  
  
AlmightyIshboo - Glad to know that they haven't gotten to you yet . . . also glad that you've found a hiding spot! Did I write soon enough for you?  
  
Next chapter will be up . . . whenever. :o) 


	5. The Return of the Shadow? What?

Disclaimer - If I owned The Lord of the Rings, I would be a millionaire and would have no problems being published. As I have yet to see my name in print, I don't think that being the owner of LotR is one of the bragging rights I have. ;-)  
  
A/N - Yes, another short chapter . . . however, this ought to be the last. :-D My Writer's Block has lifted, and I'm back to working on my own Realm, which means that updates ought to be faster and somewhat longer.   
  
WARNING- This chapter contains a major spoiler for The Return of the King. There. You have been warned.   
  
Afternoon found Anna in hot pursuit of Sîrwen, trying to convince her to take her back to the stretch of trees where she had been found.  
  
"Please Sîrwen - I must go back. There is something important I left behind - something that I have to find." Anna pleaded.   
  
"Why did you not bring this thing with you when you came to Rivendell?" Sîrwen asked, completely baffled.   
  
"I - I didn't think about it. Please take me back!" Anna begged.   
  
"If you did not think about this thing, did not remember it, then it is not important, is it?" Sîrwen inquired of her gently.   
  
"No . . . I mean, yes! It is important! Very. I couldn't go and get it earlier because, um, I didn't know how to ask." Anna replied, completely truthful.   
  
"You still do not know how. The proper word is -" the elf began.   
  
Anna cut her off before she could inform her of the proper tense."Please, Sîrwen! If you will not take me, I will ask Glorfindel to - and I do not think he will be happy with my asking."  
  
Sîrwen sighed. "He will not be pleased, but I suppose that he will take you, if you ask kindly."  
  
"Do you think so?" Anna asked, excited.   
  
"Yes, Anna. But you must not tarry long in asking, ere Glorfindel finds that he has other business to attend to."  
  
She threw her arms around Sîrwen and embraced her. "Thank you, lady!" She cried in Sindarin.   
  
She did not bother to wait for Sîrwen's reply - or correction on the use of words - instead, she immediately dashed off in hopes of finding Glorfindel unoccupied.   
  
It was less than a half-hour later that she found herself riding behind a baffled Glorfindel, on her way to finding the trilogy.   
  
  
  
It was not long before they reached the wood where she had been found, and not long before she could contain her excitement no longer, and dismounted to search for her books.   
  
"Where are they?" She whispered, her face turned skyward. "Show me where they can be found."  
  
Something glinted gold, caught her eye. Letters. Lettering on a book; a paperback copy of the Fellowship of the Ring. Only it was . . . not. There was something wrong with the title; something unusual.   
  
She blinked and shook her head, to clear her thoughts. Surely she had read it wrong, for it could not be, it could not have changed so. The title was no longer The Fellowship of the Ring. Instead it was now called The Return of the Shadow.   
  
Horrified, she tore open the book, looking frantically for the table of contents. The chapters were different; they had different names and began and ended on different pages. Instead of the book ending with The Breaking of the Fellowship, it ended with a different chapter - In Search of Hobbit. The Bridge of Khazhad-Dûm was no longer called as such; instead it was now titled The Departure of Boromir.   
  
"No. It cannot be," she thought, stunned. "Boromir did not realize his lust for the Ring until later, after Lothlorien. It cannot be."  
  
Afraid of what else might be wrong with the story, she scrabbled around on the forest floor, trying to find her other books. "The Treason of Isengard," she muttered. "Sauron Defeated. Things have changed; the story is being warped beyond recognition. I don't know how it's going to turn out. I don't even know if Frodo destroys the Ring or not."  
  
Dejectedly, knowing her worst fears to be true, she opened her copy of Sauron Defeated, and paged to the section where she knew the Ring was destroyed. Carefully, so as not to miss any details, she read the entire chapter, finally coming to the place where Frodo tried to throw the ring into the Mountain, only to fail and scrabble with Gollum before having his finger bitten off and watching Gollum - and the Ring - fall into the fire instead.   
  
"On the bright side," she thought, as she finished reading and closed the book, "The Ring being destroyed hasn't changed."  
  
Feeling as though the world was not ending entirely, she walked back to the small clearing where Glorfindel and Asfaloth were waiting for her. Together they rode back to Imladris.   
  
A/N - There! That wasn't so bad . . . thanks to Me for pointing out some mistakes I made! :o) For your information, the titles in here are from some of the History of Middle Earth books, which I am not using in writing this. Only the titles. :-)  
  
Me: Concrit! Thank you. What I was going on here was that her being in Middle Earth, attending the Council, and trying to tell Elrond about the books screwed things up. Glad to know that you like it no matter how messed up it is. :o) And yes, I realize that Tolkien never used the term human. I just didn't realize it while writing the previous chapter(s). As for Glorfindel being surprised at her knowing his horse's name . . . why else would she be invited to the Council? *Laughs* Actually, I didn't realize that . . . thanks for pointing it out. It'll help me out later on when I'm trying to fix the already messed up plot. :o)  
  
AlmightyIshboo - Wow . . . I'm loved! And I wrote enough for once! ;-) Yah! You got it right . . . she was in the Halls of Mandos, which are in Aman. :oD Thanks for reviewing!  
  
Ainu Laire - Answers! I have answers! *Laughs* All right. She was invited to the Council because . . . well, you'll find out. Things are changing because of her mere presence - and because she attended the Council and tried to tell Elrond about the books. Yea! It was Mandos - as for why, I thought that since he controlled life and death among the elves, he might be concerned with what's going to happen next . . .yech, I'm not telling. ;-) Here's a hint, though - it involves PJ's version of TTT.  
  
technetium - I'm not alone! :-D The main reason I wrote this was to create a fan fic that was serious, had no romance, and revolved around an OC. I'm very glad to know that you've enjoyed it thus far. Kudos! You guessed whose hall it was . . . and as a prize you get . . . a review! *Laughs* Sorry. It was the only thing I could think of. :-D  
  
Nightbird*Songbird - Sorry to hear about school . . . *Looks mournfully at her Honors Chem homework* I know how you feel. Honors classes suck the life out of you. Er, thanks for calling me an awesome writer . . . I think. *Stares at the mess made by the cantaloupe* Thanks. :o)  
  
Next update will be . . . when I finally stop working on my original fiction. :o) 


	6. No way home?

Disclaimer - No, mi nombre no es Tolkien. Yo no soy Tolkien. Él fue inteligente. Soy un poco estúpido. ¿Entiendes? ¡Bueno!  
  
A/N - Okay. So I haven't updated for a while. I know that. You see, I discovered fictionpress.com and I've been busy there. :o) Updates from now on should be a bit faster . . . I hope. Maybe not.   
  
Nightfall found Anna shut in her room, poring over Sauron Defeated and making notes on a piece of parchment as to what was different and what was the same, only to stop, frustrated, and drop the pen she was using to write. Somehow she felt that everything she was doing was futile, in vain, that nothing she did would be able to repair the major breach of canon that her prescence had caused.   
  
"I don't understand!" She cried, slamming her book down on the table. "I haven't done anything! The only thing I did that wasn't mentioned in the story was attend the Council - and I don't even know why Elrond let me!"  
  
"He wanted you to attend for he thought that your appearance was significant, another strange event in a chain of odd happenings. He thought that perhaps if you were allowed to attend the council you might find someone that spoke a language you knew, someone that you could communicate with." Sîrwen, standing in the doorway, said calmly.   
  
Anna turned around abruptly. "How long have you been standing there?" She asked, suddenly fearing that Sîrwen might have heard too much.   
  
"Long enough to hear you ask why you were allowed to attend the Council when it was clear you had nothing to tell." Sîrwen replied calmly.   
  
"I did have something to offer - but I did not think that I was allowed to tell what it was. Now I'm afraid that it's all ruined." She closed her eyes and put her head down on the table. "I know what's going to happen but it's the wrong thing - and now I'm afraid that I've changed the course of events, made things change for the worse." She muttered, her cheek pressed flat against the table.   
  
"What do you mean, 'changed the course of events'? What is this of which you speak?"  
  
Alarmed at the tone of voice that Sîrwen had taken, Anna stammered, "Nothing. Nothing at all."  
  
"If it were nothing," said Sîrwen calmly, "You would not try to hide it."  
  
"It is nothing - and I shall continue to hide it. I did tell Lord Elrond -but he did not believe me." Anna admitted grudgingly.   
  
"I understand. If you do not wish to speak of such things, that is your will. However, I would try to tell Elrond again, before he asks where such strange texts -" here she nodded towards the copy of Sauron Defeated - "are found."  
  
Anna sighed. "I know. And I will."  
  
The next morning, she ventured into Elrond's study, ready to tell him the truth, prepared with the books to back up her story.  
  
She pushed open the door, half hoping that the elf-lord would be nowhere nearby. "Lord Elrond?" She called out softly, waiting for a reply.   
  
"Yes, Anna?" Elrond Peredhel looked up from the book that he reading. "What is it you need?"  
  
She paused, for lack of words. "I - there's something I have to tell you. I know it's going to sound really far-fetched, but - I have to let you know."   
  
"Very well - I am listening."   
  
She took a deep breath. "I've tried to tell you this before, but you didn't believe me. In my world, Arda is made-up. It's a story, written by a man with the last name of Tolkien. He invented all of this - made up everything about your world and what is in it. He invented Elves and Hobbits; he made up the story of the One Ring. In my world, everything that exists here is not real. This entire place is fictional."  
  
Elrond stared at her blankly. "You mean to say that our world is not real?"  
  
"No - at least, not where I come from. Here you're real enough, but there, you're not. Look - here are copies of the books that Tolkien wrote." She dumped them on the table. "The Lord of the Rings. He wrote them about Frodo and his quest. Everyone here is in them. Except for me. I wasn't written into the story. I shouldn't be here. That's why things have gone all wrong lately - I've been here, making a mess of things."  
  
Elrond looked down at the books, then back up at her. Almost at once a look of understanding dawned across his face. He picked up a copy of the book. "Suddenly everything is clear. I knew at your arrival that there was something not quite right with the way things were happening - you should not have been at the Council. And yet, you were. Something has changed - something is not right. You must be sent back to where you came from."  
  
"I know," Anna whispered, "But how?"  
  
A thoughtful look crossed Elrond's face. "The Istari might, if they were asked to do such a thing."  
  
"Yes - but no one knows what became of the two Blue Istari, and Gandalf and Saruman cannot be reached . . ." She trailed off, losing hope.  
  
"Nor Ragadast. Surely there must be some way that you can be returned to your home . . ." Elrond replied.   
  
"I can't think of a way, not without asking the Valar themselves for help." She admitted.   
  
Elrond gave her a level look. "Nor can I." 


	7. A Conundrum

Disclaimer - Would Tolkien really write something so hideous as a girl dropped into Arda fic?   
  
A/N - Forgive me if my Silmarillion facts are off - it's been a while since I last read the Sil, and the Encyclopedia of Arda does not always have the information that you need . . . :o) Also, I would like to apologize for the Mini-Balrog inadvertently created in the last chapter(s) - it's Peredhil, not Peredhel. Feel free to set Miss Cam on me. :o)  
  
Finally, the information about time travel used in this chapter is somewhat accurate. Up to a point.   
  
It was not until after Elrond had left that the full realization of what was happening hit her. Up until now, getting home had not been a major priority - yes, she had been wondering how time was changed and if her parents were missing her, and she had been homesick in her first few weeks in Arda, but it had never really occurred to her what might happen if she was not able to return home. The prospect frightened her.   
  
"If I can't go home, what will happen to me? What will happen to the story?" She pondered as she changed into her nightclothes. She had a sudden vision of everything going up in smoke. "No! I won't let that happen! I won't let canon be destroyed!"  
  
Suddenly drowsy, she felt sleep overtake her.   
  
"Welcome once again to my hall, Anna." A voice greeted her merrily.   
  
She shook her head. "Hello."  
  
"Do you know why you are here?"  
  
"Because I've changed the plot yet again?"  
  
"Yes. Come and see."  
  
She felt herself pushed forward, into a different part of the Hall where elves sat, waiting, it seemed, for their final judgement. Being a Silmarillion fan, she knew precisely where she was. Being a fan of the movies, she knew what to look for.   
  
In the far corner of the hall Haldir, march warden of Lorien, waited for Mandos to pass judgement upon him.   
  
"Do you see why it was to my hall you were brought, Anna? Do you understand why it was I you were brought before, and not Manwë or his wife Varda?"  
  
She swallowed, feeling a lump grow in her throat. "Yes. I was brought here because you are the one that deals with death among the Eldar."  
  
"Yes," said Mandos, his voice suddenly sorrowful. "And it is death that you have brought with you, death and destruction upon your arrival. Watch."  
  
A scene was played before her eyes. A battle. Helm's Deep. As she watched, a legion of elves approached, and soon joined the fight. She closed her eyes, knowing what would happen, but still could hear the sounds of the battle - and the lament over Haldir's death.   
  
Without warning, the noise stopped. She opened her eyes. Helm's Deep had disappeared.   
  
"Now do you see?" Mandos' voice asked her.   
  
"Yes - I've changed the story, caused death and destruction as you said," Anna answered feebly. "But why?"  
  
"Why? What do you mean by asking why?" Mandos' voice inquired, his tone quizzical.   
  
"Why have things changed when I've done nothing? I mean, why has the story changed? I haven't really done anything, other than arrive here. Yes, I tried to tell Elrond Peredhil what happened in the books, and I did go to the council they held - but that's it." Anna answered hurriedly. "I've done nothing wrong - I've tried not to influence the characters. So why have I changed canon?"  
  
A sigh resonated throughout the Hall. "True, you have not done anything that would have affected the story adversely. By all means, nothing should have changed, save for a tiny disruption caused simply by your presence. But something did change - something did happen. When you told Elrond about the books the first time, what was his reaction?"  
  
"He did not believe me - he thought I was telling a story." Anna said heavily.   
  
"Have you not learned by now that most of the tales told in Arda are true?"  
  
"I know they are," answered Anna, remembering the stories related in the books that she had found to be true when reading The Silmarillion. "But Elrond told me himself that he doubted me."  
  
"Did he? Why then did he believe you at a later date?"  
  
"I don't know. Maybe the thought had time to process or something, or maybe he decided that I wasn't lying - oh." She stopped abruptly. "He did not believe me in the beginning but after a while he decided that I wasn't telling him a story - he must have talked to Glorfindel - he must have thought that I couldn't have known who Glorfindel was, who Asfaloth was without some prior knowledge. He must have remembered that Imladris is not a name known to many."  
  
"And what might he have done, had he come to this decision?" Mandos asked of her.   
  
"He might have - he might have told the others about it. Oh - Sîrwen! Glorfindel, Arwen, Elladan, Elrohir, Lindir - he might have told them all. And Elladan and Elrohir would ride with the Dunedain - they would have told the Rangers what Elrond had said, and since they are kindred of Aragorn later on they would have told him, and things would have been changed even further. The end would be changed. I understand now. It's like the conundrum about time travel." She paused, and took a deep breath. "If you choose to go back into the past and change a decision that you knew would turn out for the worst, what would happen? Surely you would not make that decision in your younger life because you would be advised by your older self, so there would be no need to go back and tell your younger self not to make that choice - so what would be the outcome? What would happen to you? Would you make that decision or not? I can see now why things have changed."  
  
"And for that I am grateful, for you shall need that ability once you return. We, the Valar, cannot intervene. You must find your way back of your own accord - and soon."  
  
Dismayed, Anna asked, "But how? There's no one that can help me find my way back!"  
  
"There is no one that might help you but the oldest of them all."   
  
Namo's words rang in her ears as she awoke with a start in Rivendell.   
  
Replies to Reviewers:  
  
Thanks for all that gave constructive criticism! :o)  
  
Hellga - *Sticks out arm* Go ahead - take a sample. Although I'm afraid it's more from experience than anything else. :-)  
  
Lailonniel - Whoa! Did I update fast enough?   
  
Yuhi-thedoerofevildeeds: Did this clear things up?  
  
Acharnae - Thank you for taking the time to leave some constructive criticism. :o) Thanks for pointing out the problem with Anna being too calm - I'll be sure to keep that in mind for later chapters. Thanks again!   
  
Elanhin - I don't know. Why don't you tell me? :o)  
  
Ainu Laire - Yes and no. Perhaps this cleared things up a bit as to why things were so screwed up.   
  
AlmightyIsboo - It's never too late for s'mores! No, not necessarily the Valar - I'm trying to figure out who it might be but I'm kind of conflicted at the moment . . . do you think Tom Bombadil knows about quantum mechanics?  
  
Leonora J - Thank you for giving me constructive criticism - hardly anyone does nowadays. :o) *Whaps forehead* Duh. I knew that. I even told it to a ff.net author once. Thank you for telling me - I'm afraid that I might not have noticed without you putting in a word. :o) I'll think about the Sindarin thing. 


	8. Tom Bombadil, Eldest of them All

Disclaimer: No, I'm not Tolkien. No, I don't own it.   
  
A/N - No, I'm not dead, thanks for asking . . . yes, I'll try to update faster from now on.   
  
This is a short chapter. You have been warned.   
  
She opened her eyes ruefully, praying what she had dreamed had not really happened yet knowing that it had. For a fleeting instant, she imagined that she was back at home, that what had happened had all been a dream.   
  
Sîrwen's voice brought her back to reality. "You have slept long," the Elf remarked.   
  
Anna blinked. "Yes, very long, and dreamed deep," she answered. "Perhaps too deeply."  
  
Sîrwen gave her a level look. "How so?"  
  
"I - er - it's hard to explain," she admitted. "I'm not quite sure that I understand it myself."  
  
"Would your dreaming have anything to do with your being taken away from home?" Sîrwen asked patiently, thinking back to an earlier time when her young charge had often woken in the night and been unable to sleep again, burdened with worries of her home and what was happening there without her.   
  
She shook her head. "No - I - I dreamed what would happen if I stayed here, of what would happen to all of the char - all of you," Anna answered, catching herself just in time.   
  
Sîrwen's expression did not change. Indeed, she remained as stolid as ever. "Am I correct in believing that you will wish to speak with Lord Elrond after dressing?"  
  
Anna nodded, relieved that Sîrwen had not pressed the matter any further. "I - yes. I need to see Elrond."  
  
  
  
She did not remember dressing or even the walk to Elrond' study. So preoccupied was she that it was not until she entered Elrond's study that she even became aware of her surroundings.   
  
"Greetings, Anna," said the Elf lord calmly.   
  
"Hullo," she responded dully, unable to remember, or care that it was a word that he would not recognize.   
  
"I believe that I have found a solution to your problem," said Elrond warily, noting the strange look in her eye. "That is, if you have not thought of an answer."  
  
"I haven't," said Anna after a moment's reflection, "but someone else has."  
  
Elrond gave her a curious look. "And what might that answer be?" he inquired.   
  
"I am not to call on the Valar for help. Instead, I am supposed to find the oldest of them all and ask for help," she answered, wondering who it might be. Tom Bombadil had called himself the oldest of all, but wasn't supposed to be one of the Valar?  
  
Elrond nodded curtly. "There is one who calls himself the oldest of them all. Would you seek his advice?"  
  
She didn't have to think long. "Yes, and probably try it too," she answered unabashedly. "I love - Arda - but I can't stay here. There are - too many things that have gone wrong since I've been here."  
  
"Such as the death of the man, Boromir?" inquired Elrond.   
  
She turned the answer over in her mind. "Yes and no," she said finally. "There's more to it than that."  
  
"Meaning that Boromir would have died had you not intervened," said Elrond heavily. Noting the surprised look on her face, he added, "There is not much that one does not learn after so many years in Middle Earth. Reading facial expressions is a skill that you learn quickly."  
  
She nodded, remembering some of the struggles that he had experienced during his time. "I understand. But - what am I to do?"  
  
Elrond sighed in a way that did not suit him. "You know how the war ends, do you not?"  
  
"Yes," said Anna, her voice trailing off. "Or, at least I should. If I haven't messed things up too horribly, it should follow the end of the book."  
  
"Then you know that my daughter, Arwen, is to be married to Aragorn," he said. "Do not gape at me in such a surprised way - I am not blind to the affairs of my own house, and my sons would not have ridden to give him her banner otherwise."  
  
She only just remembered to close her mouth before beginning to speak. "Erm, what about their wedding?"  
  
"When my daughter leaves for Aragorn's side, you will also leave with them, but for a different destination."  
  
"The house of Tom Bombadil?" she asked, and shivered. Foresight was not something that Elrond had been mentioned as having, and the thought of it rather scared her.   
  
"That is one of his names," said Elrond calmly. "He is acknowledged as being the oldest by many, and even if it is not him that you must seek, he may give you advice as to how to reach your home."  
  
"Very well," she said softly. "If it is Tom Bombadil who is the oldest, then, well, I'll pay him a visit."  
  
Elrond gave her a piercing look. "Remember, Anna, you are always welcome in my hall."  
  
She sniffled, suddenly aware of the onslaught of tears. "All right," she said thickly. "I'll remember." She resisted the urge to throw her arms around the Elf Lord and hug him as she would have hugged her father. "If things don't work out, I'll - I'll come back here."  
  
Elrond smiled at her, a hollow smile. "You are always welcome in my hall," he repeated.  
  
It was around then that she began to out and out sob. "Thanks," she sniffled. "Thanks a lot." Unable to resist any longer, she threw her arms around the Elf Lord in a wet, squashy hug.  
  
To her surprise, the Elf did not pull away, but rather embraced her in return. "We will find a way to return you to your family," he said, correctly interpreting her tears as those of homesickness. "You will not be trapped in Arda forever."  
  
With that said, he took her by the hand and led her back to her room, and to Sîrwen, who was waiting for her young charge's return.   
  
REPLIES TO REVIEWS:  
  
Ainu Laire - Has Peter Jackson come to Middle Earth? No - but after watching TTT, I felt like killing off Haldir as part of the plot.   
  
yuhi-thedoerofevildeeds - The wait is over! After months and months, I've finally updated!  
  
Hellga - *Shrugs* Maybe my copy of LotR is messed, or maybe I've been around too many badfic writers - I could've sworn it was Peredhel too.   
  
Elanhin - Destroy Middle Earth on Anna's behalf? Never. Things will be fixed - you'll see.   
  
AlmightyIshboo - *Joins in cheering* Hooray! Another chapter posted . . . and things will be resolved in the next two! Hopefully . . . Tom Bombadil may or may not know about quantum mechanics. If he does, it will be frightening but to Anna's advantage. If not . . . well, there you have it.   
  
Acharnae - By the look of things, she is teaming up with Sîrwen. : )  
  
Hirotani - A writer such as myself . . . *Blinks* I'll take that as a compliment, then? Thanks!  
  
Lady Elleth - Thanks for taking the time to write such a detailed review. It's always reassuring to hear that your character isn't a Mary Sue, but rather an OFC, and that your writing, while not perfect, is passable. I'm planning on revamping this sooner or later, or maybe going back to the same idea. Whatever I do, your review was/is extremely helpful. Thank you. As for any possible diseases she may carry infecting the people of Middle Earth - I pondered that for quite some time before leaving it out. Hopefully, if/when I come back to this, I'll put it in. Thanks again for reviewing - constructive criticism is something that I rarely get these days! : )  
  
sugaricing - Thanks for taking the time to review!  
  
melata - Another vote of confidence - this isn't a Mary Sue, or if it is, it's so entertaining that it's still worth reading. Thanks. I needed that. : )  
  
Das Blume - What did I mean by the oldest? Well, hopefully this chapter cleared it up. : )  
  
Phoenix Flight - At this point, Truth is too near and dear to my heart to give up. I'll definitely keep writing.   
  
Daisy, Dark, Dailight - Well, it's not exactly soon, but I did update. : -)  
  
*Huggles all her reviewers and passes out chocolate* Thanks for bearing with me through this fic. Please know that the next two chapters will most likely be the last, and that yes, things in Middle Earth will snap back to normal.   
  
Also please know that the last bit of soppiness at the end wasn't planned - it just sort of played out that way. 


	9. Homecoming

Disclaimer–Me no Tolkien. Me no own. You no Sue. Er–sue.

A/N–Sorry, sorry, I haven't updated in ages . . . and this is the final chapter. Yes, I'm cruel. Pelt me with tomatoes, if it makes you feel any better–last chapter means last chapter. No sequel.

As Anna had predicted, the War of the Ring ended in a way very similar to that of the book. While Frodo did not lose a finger (or so she was told), Gollum was destroyed along with the ring, and Sauron was overthrown. Arwen left to wed Aragorn, and along with her several of the elves from Elrond's household, and on the day that Arwen left, so did Anna and Sîrwen, not for Gondor, but for the house of Tom Bombadil.

Their journey was not so much strange as uneventful. They stayed in no towns (Sîrwen had other ways of finding food and shelter, Anna soon discovered), and met no other travelers on the road, save for the birds and one furry animal that might have been a squirrel. They did not seem to move at a great pace, yet within a fortnight Anna found herself once again entering familiar territory. As they passed over the stones that marked the Barrow Downs, she remembered with sudden clarity the chapter from the books, Fog on the Barrow Downs, where Frodo had faced the Barrow Wight, and come out the winner, meeting again with Tom Bombadil.

Perhaps it was the strangeness of the place they were in (even by daylight, with no fog, the Barrow Downs were an odd place to be) or maybe simple irony at the place that they were in, but it was not half-way through the Downs that Anna heard the familiar cry, and found herself facing Tom Bombadil, yellow boots and all. He greeted her warmly, without asking why she had come to the edge of his lands, or why she was accompanied by Sîrwen. Indeed, he seemed to know why, for when she tried to tell him about it, he would hear none of it.

"There will be time enough for your story later," he told her, gently but firmly. "And I have stories of my own to tell, now. Ones that even mistress Sîrwen may not know." Turning away, he murmured something to Sîrwen in a tongue that Anna did not recognize, presumably some other language that she had not been taught. "Come now, we have much to discuss," said Bombadil, and without further ado, led them to the place he called home.

Anna found the house to her liking–almost exactly as she had imagined it to be. Goldberry was waiting for them, with a meal on the table and a pitcher of water ready to clean hands and faces. The meal itself was not precisely dinner, nor supper–rather Anna found it to be a cross between the two. There was no meat on the table. She did not venture a guess as to why; it did not seem proper.

The conversation surrounding their eating was mundane, to begin with, yet as the meal progressed and Anna became more relaxed, things crossed into the realm of the strange. Tom asked about her life before she had arrived in Middle-Earth; she answered as best she could, telling him about her daily routine and how things had changed with her coming to Arda. To her immense surprise, he asked next to nothing about Tolkien, or the books, keeping the subject always on her, until she wondered vaguely whether she should change it.

After their meal was finished, Tom led both her and Sîrwen into a side room that, had Anna been at home, in her own home, she would have called a "living room," or perhaps a den. As it was, it did not matter–Tom pointed to a spot on the floor and told her to sit, before procuring a chair for Sîrwen (apparently asking an elf to sit on the floor was a great offense, or elsewise he only had one chair). When they had all been seated, he began to speak again.

"Now, Anna," he addressed her. "You came home hoping that I could help you to find your way home again, yes?"

Surprised by the directness of his question, she answered, "Er–yes. I–er, had a dream–that I was to come to you for advice."

Tom smiled–a smile bordering on a grin. "Advice is perhaps the best word for it, for I cannot send you home. I can only tell you how you may return to your world."

"Then–could you please tell me now?" asked Anna. "I–really miss my family. I've liked being here, but I want to go home again. To–speak in my own language, and not in one that I feel as if I'm borrowing from someone else."

"I will tell you. First, though, I would bid you to wish your friend here farewell, lest you forget in your haste," replied Tom, sounding wiser than she remembered him being in the books.

"Oh–I wouldn't forget," said Anna abruptly. She turned to Sîrwen. "I am grateful for–everything that you have done for me–teaching me a way to communicate within Rivendell, being my companion, and watching out for me–and bringing me here. You're the one I'll miss the most, when I go back home."

Tom smiled. "Now, then, here is what you have to do . . ."

Unlike her initial landing, she did not end up hitting the earth with a thud. Instead, she found that coming-to was more like–waking up from being deeply asleep. One moment, she was sitting beside Sîrwen's chair, and the next, she was looking up into the concerned face of her father.

"Anna?" he asked, anxious. "Anna? Are you okay?"

She tried to speak but found she couldn't. The pain was unbearable. Had there been this much pain upon entering Arda, she wondered. She couldn't remember it.

"Anna," said her father, sound more desperate–almost as if there was something wrong. "Anna, everything's okay. You're going to be okay."

Okay? She wanted to shout. I'm in excruciating pain, and this is okay? Instead, she nodded.

Her father looked relieved. "So it's only your leg. After I'd seen you fall, I thought maybe–but no, you're all right."

She found her voice. "Fall?"

"You were running toward us, and you fell–you must have tripped over a tree-root, because there was nothing else for you to trip over. You landed–funny. On a rock, or something else hard–it must have been hard, because you lost consciousness–and you've broken your leg. At least, that's what it looks like–how it could have been broken is beyond me."

Anna merely nodded, squeezing her eyes shut in hopes of blocking out some of the pain. From the way her left leg felt at the moment, it was a good guess that it had indeed been broken.

"Just hang in there, pumpkin," said her father, using one of the pet names she thought he had put aside long ago. "We'll get you out of here."

Four weeks passed, and Anna found herself looking forward to when she would get her cast off. She had become speedy on her crutches (though still not able to go up stairs without assistance) and yet she still wanted the cast off. Her birthday was coming up, and school was starting soon–she wanted the cast off before she had to go back to school. She could just imagine trying to explain it: "Oh, I fell while I was camping," had turned out to be a rather flimsy excuse, as her parents found out–with the severity of the break, the doctors in the emergency room wanted to know just where she'd fallen from, because apparently normal people didn't break bones tripping over tree roots. The truth–that she'd fallen into Arda and had been trapped there during the War of the Ring–was nothing that her peers would accept, and she didn't especially like the other excuses–that she'd been hit by a car, that she'd fallen rock-climbing, or even that she'd gone cliff-diving and somehow injured her leg instead of her neck. So instead she said nothing, letting her parents do the talking.

There were things that were harder to explain, of course–how she had suddenly become fluent in Sindarin, for instance, when so little was known about it–and why she was so vehement about what the folk of Elrond's household looked like, but some things were not quite so difficult to explain. Her clothing, for instance–upon arriving back on Earth, she found herself clad not in the garment Sîrwen had provided for her, but in the jeans and t-shirt she had worn before "falling" into Arda, and her copy of Tolkien no longer altered, but the same as when she had left–before she had ruined canon. For the most part, things were okay. Life went on at the same steady pace. She reunited with her friends, had them sign her cast, and played online. Things were back to normal. She had readjusted quickly since her time spent in Middle-earth. She still missed Sîrwen sometimes, and Elrond, yet she had long since realized the fact that it was beyond her to reach them, and that it was better to cherish the time she had spent with them, rather than to spend her time moping about missing them. They wouldn't want that, she knew, and so for their sake she went about the business of living without sadness.

She was normal. She was happy. She was comfortable in her life. While Arda had changed her–while being injured, she would tell her friends–had changed her, it had been for the better. Adventures ended, she found herself, like Bilbo, looking forward to the happily-ever-after.

Replies to reviews: It's been over a year since I started this. In the beginning, I regretted it–"You mean I'm supposed to update this thing?!" However, now that it's ended, I find myself feeling not only relief–but a strange sense of pride. I did it!, or should I say, we did it, because without my loyal reviewers, I wouldn't haven't had the courage to finish this. Thank you all for your support and cooperation. group hugs

Ainu Laire: I wasn't supposed to take so long to update, was I? Oh, well–ten months isn't bad, is it? Thanks for reading.

AlmightyIshboo: Look! Bombadil is dreadfully out of character, but he doesn't act like a hippy. Thanks for reading.

Das Blume: Thanks for following this. : -)

Acharnae: Tom Bombadil is indeed a hard character to write, and I'm afraid that I don't do him justice in this story. If I return to it later, I will definitely rewrite the scenes involving him.

UnDeadGoat: You IM'ed me over it in February, so . . . there you have it.

yuhi-thedoerofevildeeds: It's finished! No more need to review prompting me to update! Be happy! In other words, thank you very much for sticking with it the entire way through.

Daisy, Dark, Dailight: hands over a trench coat Thanks for reading.

To quote Porky Pig: "Th-th-that's all, folks!"


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